Beautifully Written Misery
by LatentBeauty
Summary: COMPLETED A writer I once was an illustrator of fairytales. And I had never fallen from love’s tender graces. Until I met you. It was perfect, just like you, just like your lies.
1. Chapter 1

Beautifully Written Misery

A writer I once was an illustrator of fairytales. I wrote of intoxicating enchantments that I had never seen, felt, smelled, or tasted unless it was scrawled out on the creamy pages of a book. Beauty had never fallen so elegantly in my lap. Bravery was a word whose presence in my vocabulary was missed. The taste of adventure had been denied to me. And I had never fallen from love's tender graces.

Until I met you.

Before you came into my life, reality was always found behind closed doors. I weaved a web of illusions that imprisoned me beneath the written word. Books were my sanctuary, my world. In them I was always hopelessly lost, yet happiness was found at every corner. I could hide from my fears, my flaws. I could run forever from the cold emptiness of my heart. In the stories I could find perfection. I could become a faultless person whose tale always ended in _happily ever after_.

There was nothing I loved more.

When I had devoured every novel in sight I began to write my own, creating my life, my person into the heroine's epic. I made myself ideal, adding on traits that I didn't possess. I gave my character gracefulness, beauty, and courage. I gave her a spunky, spontaneous personality that was loved by all. In a way I locked myself up, shackled to my utopia.

But you found me, clinging to my false perception of life. You saved me.

Yet I was destroyed. After you I could never dream of writing a fairytale again. _Once upon a time_ is dead to me. _Happily ever after_ never existed.

If I had known I would've never given you the broken key into my heart. You would have remained an outsider forever. But I was naïve. Innocent. I opened my doors hoping you would never shut them.

Stupid. Ironic isn't it? I'm supposed to be the most intelligent girl Hogwarts has taught. But a smart girl wouldn't have fallen for your grey eyes, and she wouldn't have loved a liar. Any girl with a brain would've seen passed your deceit.

Why is it so hard to move on? It's torture to forget you. It's even worse to remember all those times you lied with a smile. I hate you for that. Of all things I hate you for your smile. It was perfect, just like you, just like your lies.

_I only love you. I'll always love you. One day, Hermione, we'll run away. We'll leave them all behind. And then we'll never have to worry about the Dark Lord, about the troubles of our world, about death. We'll hide away, leaving all that behind. And I'll love you forever. _

If only we could've ran. Run forever away.

As much as I wanted to only have you I was torn. You were ripping my heart in half, right down the middle. Harry and Ron were a sacrifice you required. But you knew that I could not live without them.

Yet I loved you enough. It was strong enough.

I almost did give up my two best friends for you and your beautiful illusion? It tore me apart to pretend that I hated you in front of them. But I know Harry and Ron. They would have killed you, had they known. I almost ran away to our hidden world. You were the only secret I ever kept from them. You were the only lie I ever told. They trusted me, loved me.

Once I trusted you. Once I loved you.

Then all my innocence, my love was shattered, like a beautiful glass dropped on a cold stone floor. You let go of me, let me fall. All the while you smiled, watching me delicately break. My tears were the sound of destruction. They cascaded down my face at the exact moment when I was destroyed, when I saw you smile.

But I could never hate you. How could I despise you? Because for two long years I loved you.

And you gave him back to me. You were my angel.

_It was midnight. I remember the twelve bell chimes, quietly ringing into a velvety darkness that encompassed me. The moon was hidden beneath the clouds and the bare white walls of my small flat in London were tightly closing in on me. _

_Ron was lost. He had gone missing. At the height of the struggle against the Dark Lord, he had disappeared. _

_I was beside myself. I could not move, could not speak. All I could do was silently cry, attempting to drown in my tears. For days I was like this, completely and utterly lost in despair. I replayed memories of laughter over and over in my head until I could bear it no longer._

_Many tried to save me, snap me out my coma. Harry called and called. He knocked and knocked until finally the door broke. Then he tried his best to comfort me. But I could not be moved. Mrs. Weasley read to me and cooked for me, even though it should have been I that comforted her for the loss of her son. Neville came. Dumbledore came. Cho came. They all came. _

_But none of them could cure my helplessness, remove my pain. I loved Ron. And love is pain. No one could bring him back to me. No one could make me whole again._

_Until that night that you came. It was the first time you ever played your part as the prince, and I the damsel in distress. But you rescued me, saved me from myself yet again. You kissed away my tears and held me tight, protecting me from the evil black dragon of loss. You whispered in my ear, "He'll come back Hermione. Remember he's not dead just yet. He's only missing. I'll find him."_

_And you did. Somehow you found him, beaten and broken left to die in a forest. You gave me a part of my heart back. _

_When you brought me too him, it was early morning. The sun was rising; the sky was lit up in soft pinks and oranges. You brought him to my bedside. So that when I awoke from my nightmare I would know it was all just a dream, because Ron would be there. Then you left, leaving us to share a moment of pure happiness and relief. _

_Ron told me it was you that found him, you that saved him, and so I apprated to you without showering, dressing, or even without brushing the tears from my eyes. _

_When I showed up on your doorstep you smiled and kissed me in all my ugliness, whispering, "It's all over now."_

_I cried and cried, screaming thank you a million times over. _

_You held me close and looked into my eyes and said, "You're welcome beautiful."_

After that how could I hate you? You saved my Ron from death.

And you said I was beautiful, something I could never see in myself, because I could not bear to look at my reflection.

So you see I will always have to love _you_. But I cannot love your actions, your betrayal.

It was Christmas day. Of all days, you had to destroy me on Christmas, the one day where love and humanity are celebrated. The day of hope and happiness where differences are put aside because the world's people realize they are all the same. Any day but Christmas would've seemed less harsh, less cold.

_The snow fell lightly on my brown curls. It melted into my long hair leaving it soft and cold. You were supposed to meet me beneath the lamppost in the park. It was our spot, the first place we had ever kissed. But you never came. You didn't even bother to come and see me. Of course I thought maybe I was just early and that you were late. Perhaps you were still walking through the park. So I set off, making my way beneath the tall evergreens frosted with pale white snow. _

_I found you on a bench hidden behind a tall tree. At first I thought you alone, but as I drew nearer I saw her. I watched you kiss her, smile at her, pull her close. And I thought back on those past few months. Realization hit me. _

"_Draco, you had extra Quidditch practice yesterday and the day before. We were supposed to go to the muggle movies tonight?"_

…

"_Darling, you cancelled again. When will I ever get see you?"_

…

"_Work on a Saturday again? You've really got to tell them to stop."_

…

_But each excuse you gave me was told with a smile, where after you ran off to see her. To hold her, and tell her that she is beautiful._

_The second I saw you two I knew. I knew along that you had lied, betrayed me. I could see it. And so I dropped to my knees into the powdery snow and began to cry. I had always been able to let my tears fall quietly but now at the most vital time I could not. I sobbed. You heard. _

_You broke away and ran to me. "Hermione, I didn't…It isn't what you think…Please believe me…" You smiled, hoping I would accept your falseness as truth. That I wouldn't see past your smile that had trapped me for so long. _

_I ran from you._

I haven't seen you since Draco. It's been 7 years. And every day I still question why you betrayed me. Was I too ugly? Too needy? Where were my flaws? Was I not brave enough? Not smart enough? What was it that made you cheat? What made you go to her?

I need to know. But that is unobtainable information. I will never understand. I will never see.

I hope you're happy, now that I am dead. Now that my heart has closed.

Because you destroyed me, Draco. Now all my stories end tragically, all my books in sadness. I am tainted, broken, unwanted. I am cast away, left, discarded. I am alone and unloved. I am what you made me.

I am searching for my illusion again but I can't find it. I can't find the fairytales of a princess who was swept off her feet by the knight in shinning armor. That is dead to me.

You are dead to me.

The world has faded.

The sky has fallen.

Love is a present that I will never unwrap.

Yet I am still alive, but my heart has perished, blown away like a leaf in too strong a wind.


	2. Chapter 2

I wasn't sure whether or not I should make this fiction a one shot or not. But I have come to a decision. I believe I could take this somewhere, so expect a short little story about 10 chapters long.

Chapter 2

I am falling endlessly, spiraling downward in a wind that will never release its tenacious grip. I keep thinking maybe you'll catch me. Maybe you'll come back, proclaiming your interminable love for me. It will snow, and we'll dance. The world will right itself. The stars will shine. I will be able to _live happily ever after_ again with a prince.

But even the moon is lost tonight. The beautiful entrancing darkness hides my loneliness in its shadows. It pushes it back into the dusty ruined corners of my ruined heart, allowing me to cry without fear of the light, the sunrise, a new day without you. A constant reminder of my failure.

Draco, where did I go wrong? What makes you think I deserve this pain, this solitude? Or rather, why did you love me? Was I really beautiful to you? Why did you save me if your plan all along was to destroy me?

I can't live like this anymore. I can't handle it, creating fantasy worlds, only to let my illusions crumble to pieces. I lose myself in day dreams of us feeding ducks in parks, or eating ice cream on the beach, only to awake with tears sliding down my cheeks. Reality always hits the hardest after my intoxicating nightmares. The black and whiteness of life comes back full in the face.

But then again you always taught me to see in shades of red. You said, _"Hermione, life isn't like your fairytales. Good and evil are not always preciously defined. The world does not live in black in white." _I never understood when you told me, sitting under the softly colored sky before sunrise. But with hindsight I see that you were always right about that. You, who were so good to me, ended up as the villain. Before you I didn't think two traits of such contrasting nature could coexist in the same person. You proved me wrong.

Yet, I keep trying to convince myself that maybe I never really loved you. It was just another one of my facades. But I can't help remember.

"_Shh," you whispered with an overbearing tone._

_I giggled. "Draco?" I said softly._

"_What?" you replied somewhat annoyed. _

"_Where **are** we going?"_

"_I already told you Hermione. It's a surprise."_

_The stone hallways, covered in timeless pictures, were quiet for all slept silently dreaming of their secrets. Even the portraits snored softly on the walls. The cold floors tickled my feet and your warm breath on the back of my neck intoxicated me, as I was led down the corridors. _

"_Close your eyes."_

"_But what if I fall?"_

"_I won't let you, Hermione. I'll never let you fall. I promise," you reassured as your long fingers brushed lightly across my eyelids. _

_I shut my eyes and gave myself up to you, because I trusted you, Draco. _

_After four more stairways and almost seven passages you uncovered my eyes and directed my head upward. _

"_Happy birthday."_

_The stars shone down above me. They were all there, just like I had asked for. That was all I had ever wanted, because it was hopeful. The black sky contradicted by its very inhabitants. For our love was the darkness, the stars our ray of hope._

_You leaned in to kiss me adding onto the perfection of the night's exotic beauty. _

Set me free from these painfully yet amazing memories. Numb me, take away all of my emotions. If I could I would erase you from my mind I would. Or at least I think I would. Whoever said **"It is better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all"** lied. It was a false hope that intended to blindly led innocence into an inescapable trap.

You caught me, and then dropped me, discarded me like a toy too old for use.

I never expected to ever be found again. I didn't think love would ever come my way again.

The irony of it all is that Ron loved me all along. Even before you. He always made sure that I would never fall too hard, but even with his attempts to save me I spiraled in the wind, leaving his opened hands untouched. Then yesterday it all changed. His fingers wildly grabbed out and found their prize.

_We met in Diagon Alley beneath the Flourish and Blotts sign. A perfectly clear azure sky, portraying a yellowed summer sun, shone above us. People passed by quickly, hurrying about in a wild fury of shopping. The cool summer breeze blew softly in my hair. The smell of rain was in the air, though there were no traces of it._

"_Hey Mione," Ron called out above the crowds. _

_I stood on my tiptoes searching for a bright red head of messy hair. There he was, towering over the masses of black, blonde, and brunettes. He stuck out like a red rose in a field of sunflowers. _

"_Ron!" I squealed happily and ran to hug him, and then I felt something. It was one of those little sparks that writers love to torment the lonely with. It was the kind of thing that unless you've felt, you can't even begin to imagine._

"_How have you been? I haven't seen you since…well…" Ron trailed off as the topic of Draco came into play. He even sneered a little. Ron had hated Draco. But after being saved by him, tolerance came in small steps. _

"_Fine. I've been fine." I said as if that was that._

_He starred at me, gazing into all the pain I had been hiding. I turned away. _

"_I'm simply splendid, lovely, amazing, incredible, wonderful, everything is brilliant, couldn't be better," all my words were blurred together with sarcasm. Hoping Ron wouldn't catch it I gave him a small smile, but Ron's intuitive skills had certainly improved since Hogwarts._

"_I'd never have left you," he mumbled inaudibly. _

"_What?"_

"_Nothing, Mione, nothing."_

_After that we sort of grew silent, as if something unspeakable had just flown overhead. Then as quickly as it had come it was gone, lost to the both of us. Ron reached out and opened the door for me and so we walked in, an amazing afternoon ahead of me. _

_Inside the bookstore, dusty shelves that rose to the ceiling encompassed the small island displays in the center of the shop. A musty smell of creamy pages filled the room, my perfume. The enchanting silence put me in an eerie trance as it always had. Ron only laughed as he watched me adjust, nothing ever affected him._

_As the afternoon progressed I began to grow uneasy. Something stirred in me that I didn't understand or know how to explain. It didn't make sense. But then again nothing ever did. Life felt like a puzzle that I had lost all the pieces for. And this time I had not the slightest inkling of what the piece even looked like._

_Eventually though the sun disappeared and the stars came out, and the day came to close, we were standing by a beautifully lit fountain laughing. It was like a page out of the past. I hadn't felt happiness of that kind in years._

"_Well Ronald, I guess that I should get home, my books await me."_

"_Nerd!"_

"_I am not," I stated defiantly trying to look somewhat angry, but it was a failed attempt. I immediately burst into laughter. "I really should go though."_

"_Okay, night Mione. Sweet dreams," he said before he walked off._

_I watched him go slowly grow smaller and smaller. I turned to leave, but was overcome by an unexplainable force. I stood, contemplating what could be and what should not be. But before I could come to a conclusion he turned me around so that I was held safely in his arms. Then before I could say anything he kissed me. It was needy. It was passionate. It was just as lost as I was, but it was loving all the same. _

_I needed to be loved again. So I kissed him back. _

Love always comes back in the most unexplainable forms. It loses us, turns us, twists us, and surrounds us in an impossible labyrinth of paradoxes. It was never simple, never black and white. Love always came in red. I have never felt it in any other color.

So now I am left in contradiction, in confusion. I know not what to do, nor how to react. I am tittering on the edge of possibly the highest cliff I have ever known.

If only you could be here and love me still. I would be wrapped in perfection, in beauty. The world would be all I could've ever asked for. Nothing more, nothing less. But you've trapped me.

Draco, please just set me free.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_All the world's a stage…_

Shakespeare. The most ingenious man of all time, everything I have ever felt has been found beneath the cover of his timeless mind. Falling in love with Ron is like watching a play I've already seen unfold. It's like reading a book and being trapped beneath the black and whiteness of its repetitive pages. There are no surprises, no unexpected adventures. Ron is a character I've already memorized.

Yet I find myself loving him. I'm not sure in what way, but it's different from you. And I'm not sure if I like it, this mature love. With you it was so incredible, like _Romeo and Juliet_, but I guess I was wrong. You are nothing like Romeo. You would never give up your life for me. You were never self-sacrificing, as much I pretended you were.

Now I'm walking down a one way street with you. And somehow I'm walking the other way. We keep passing each other in silence. I'm hoping, but you're forgetting. What made it come to this? I thought I was the only one who really cared about you, but that love is not returned. I am nothing but a shadow. A piece of yourself you're better off without. Someone new, more beautiful, more incredible, more amazing has replaced me. Because when it really mattered I was lost. You never found me.

Ron did. You and I both know that. Yet I do not find myself drawn, the way I was to you, to him maybe that is due to my never ending confusion. Maybe Ron and I were always meant for each other and you were just a cumbersome impediment. Could that be what my life has been about all this time? You are just an obstacle that has successfully blinded me. An illusion of perfection.

It really is convincing, the way I can lie to myself.

_The neon light of the muggle clock blinked brightly into my tired eyes. 11:11. The wishing time, the only numbers that can be reflected and still be the same. _

"_Hermione," Ron whispered softly in my ear, "Wake up! I made you waffles."_

_I somehow managed to pry apart my eyes. There he was standing proudly, holding a tray of overcooked waffles. His red hair was tangled from sleep and his little blue pajama bottoms stopped a few inches above the floor. A smile lit up his already bright face. I was reminded briefly of Christmas Day at Hogwarts our 6th and 7th year. Ron and Harry would always send Lavender up to the dormitories to wake me. It was always around 6. Every time without fail, I would stomp down the stairs looking angry. Yet inside I was always smiling. I lived for those chilly mornings. They would always unwrap their presents quickly. I recall clouds of brightly colored paper floating above me. Sparkling. It was always sparkling red, gold, green, and snowy white, like little worlds of color._

_A soft kiss on the cheek drew me away from my reminiscing. _

"_Waffles?"_

"_You know Ron, I don't really want to eat anything," I said hoping he wouldn't force the waffles on me. I know he tried, but the smell was nauseating. _

"_Come on Mione, you have to be just a little hungry after last night," he said with an even bigger smile than before. _

"_I never said I wasn't hungry," I whispered, leaning in to kiss him. "I'm hungry for this."_

"_Well let's make sure that you don't starve," Ron said lightly kissing my collarbone. _

"_I'm hungry for more," I said playfully and lifted up his face._

_For a moment of time we lay still staring at one another. I had forgotten how intimate eyes were. And in Ron's hazel eyes I saw a flash of grey. I blinked and it was gone, a nightmare of the past. _

_Hastily I pulled him close to me and kissed him hungrily, just as I had meant to all along, before I saw grey. _

Is that right, to see you so vividly in Ron?

_The stormy beach was empty. All the people had flocked indoors to the small cafes and shops of the quaint little town. There was not another living thing in sight, except for of course the raging ocean. The waves of dark grey blue beckoned me closer. The thunder clouds rumbled in the distance as Ron held me close, all most too tight, for I wanted to get away. It was calling me, whispering a salty wind of enticing beauty. It promised me freedom. _

"_Do you think we should head towards the village? It's getting extremely windy and those storm clouds are coming closer," Ron said pointing at the black pillows of thunder that drew nearer and nearer. _

_But I was already swept away. I couldn't leave now. It was over. Everything was over, now that the ocean was calling me. I should've known that he would never let me fall into the depths of the great sea. Ron always caught me, even when I tried to avoid him._

_I have no idea what came over me that day but for some reason I was carried off. I had reverted back to the depressed hibernation of my mind. It was a place, a trance that was impregnable. Its barriers had never been broken, but as you pulled me out of the tossing waves I watched the walls break._

_Yet it wasn't you. As the lights in my eyes cleared I saw red hair instead of the blonde that I desired. Instead of lightly tanned skin I saw freckles sprinkled across a long nose. It was Ron. He had saved me again from you._

Why is it that I can't just love the prince? Ron's always been the knight in shinning armor. You've always been the evil force of entrancing darkness, the tempting apple. After one taste I can't ever love another. It wouldn't be the same as the first.

_It was raining. The drops cascaded down from the beautiful clouds. The sun was hidden away, protected from the world. The beautiful tear shaped water was oddly refreshing despite its chill. And the mist of the valley was illuminated by the torch Ron carried. _

"_Where is that damn campsite?" _

_I couldn't help but giggle. Ron was the epitome of incompetence; we had already gotten lost three times. I made a mental note, that when we were married I would never let him out of the house with directions._

_Married. Married? Where did that come from? Has that picture sic idea always been trapped inside my head, lying dormant until my heart caught up? Confusion washed over, flooding me more than the rain. Is that what I wanted? A marriage to Ron, until death do us part. Forever. _

_That seemed like horribly long word, forever I mean. To be shackled down to one person for eternity seemed so…hopeless. Set in stone for all of time. Would that be even possible? I mean with you, could I ever completely forsake the dreamlike illusions I let replay in my mind?_

_Suddenly everything seemed so ugly. The once beautiful landscape darkened. The rain kept pouring, pressing me into the muddy ground. There was no way out. I had already crossed the Rubicon. Ron wanted marriage that was what he was after. He would never let go until he had my love. _

_But right now, his laughter seemed like a white light shinning through the shadows of the trees that encompassed us. Even in his stupidity he could smile. It was like a beautiful bright sense of security, stability. Could he laugh enough for the both of us? Bring me happiness even in Draco's circus._

_I wanted to live forever, to hear Ron laugh. The fears of marriage lessened, dimming until I could see them no longer. _

Maybe that was when I realized that Ron was the right person for me. Maybe that night I already knew my answer to Ron's question. I was going to say yes, because security mattered more to be then the love I felt for you. Sometimes in life you have to make sacrifices. Love was mine.

So when he asked, I wasn't all surprised.

"_Hermione," he whispered softer than the faint glows of pink in the morning sky. "I want to you to know something…"_

_I remember the strange assurance he had. It was as if he had done this before. It wasn't new to him, but rather just an old movie he had seen many times over._

"_What?" I asked, playing the lead actress's part of confusion. _

_He smiled and kissed me. "Will you marry me?"_

"_Yes," I replied quickly, sealing my eternity before I could change my mind._

I wonder what if I had thought over my answer just a few seconds more. Would I still be here? Would Ron still be snoring softly next to me? But ever more so I wonder if I was right in saying yes. I mean, did I want this? I think I did want it, marriage that is, but maybe with you. Then I get to wondering what we would be like.

They always say the what ifs are the worst. That you cannot succeed in life until you let go of the disappointments of the past. That's what you were to me, but you refuse to be pushed aside.

Maybe the time has come for me to make you leave.

Good bye Draco.


	4. Chapter 4

MERRY CHRISTMAS, KWANZA, HANUKAH, OR WHATEVER ELSE YOU CELEBRATE!

Chapter 4

Life stopped when I said _I do_. I thought that was when it was all supposed to begin. I thought after marriage everything would be seen in a beautiful light. I was always told that everything would seem tinted in happiness. I expected to feel whole, like I had found my soul mate, my second half. Isn't that why people marry? Isn't that why they pledge themselves to each other forever? Because eternal happiness was the reward.

_Whispers followed me as close as my shadow. Every corner I turned I found a group of laughing people all talking about Ron and I under hushed breaths. About how cute a couple we were, about how they knew that we'd always get married. They seemed proud of themselves, like they knew it all along; it was something to hold over my head. _

Or at least that's how I took it. And in a sense it was humbling. Yet why did I feel so trapped, so alone?

_I was dressed and made into a doll by Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, both of whom were trying to ground themselves, in spite of their joyful jumps. They wrapped white silk around me, burying me in the soft pure curves of snow. On my neck they hung beautiful strings of small pearls, which reflected the rainbow light of the sun. The same pearls were adorned on my ears. And lastly my hair was left to fall down my back, brushed tenderly by Mrs. Weasley. _

I always remember feeling like an actress dressed up to play the part of the damsel in distress who had finally found her true love. I tried, with failed attempts, to convince myself that Ron was my true love. But in the end I guess I ended up playing Juliet well. No one ever suspected that deep down I was still waiting for you.

Because in my warped mind I saw a shimmer of hope, I thought that maybe you would come at last minute and protest it. I thought you would claim me as yours and then we would run away. Then we would be safe. I could replay that sweet tempting dream over and over in my head. But as I strode down the aisle with my short father I could not find your grey eyes.

_The twinkling delicate flute played as I tried gracefully to walk down to the altar where Ron stood waiting nervously. It was just as my eight year old self had married her dolls. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was happy. Her dream come true. It was perfect, in a sense. The white roses in my trembling hands soothed me and my father's whispers made me stand taller. Even my mother's tears forced me onward. It was the longest walk in my life._

That was when I finally managed to shut you out of my life forever; that walk made me realize you were never coming back. In fact I made up my mind to destroy any vestiges I had left. I would go home to bury you in the ashes of Ron's fire. All I kept was a red rose, dried and faded, to remind me of what once was. But even that I hid well. I swallowed it all so that Ron and I could be genuinely happy, the way he was when he reached out for my hand at the altar.

"_Mione," he whispered lovely taking me from my father's sweaty grip. _

_We held hands through the entire service and did not let go until Ron reached up to wipe the tears from my eyes and lift my veil. _

_Then he whispered, "I do." It was so that I would be the only one to hear. By doing so he created a world of intimacy I had not known until that moment._

_I said it back softly. The priest gave us a look and then cleared his throat. I took the hint and repeated those words, which sealed my life, louder, so that the world could hear. So that you could hear._

After that I knew it locked. Ron and I had been shackled together for our lives. There was no key. I was scared out of my mind until Ron, in his suave ways, made it all better. Just like he always had.

_He kissed me so softly as though I were something he wanted to have forever. It was like eating an ice cream cone slowly, savoring every taste. Ron was always like that, he never let anything slip his mind. I could focus on nothing but his sweet lips and his gorgeous eyes. I saw no grey only a golden hazel. _

_Silence encircled us, while the audience cheered. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. _

…

I don't know what to feel anymore. I'm like Jekyll and Hyde. One second I'm in love with Ron, the next I find my eyes searching for the red rose locked in a black box beneath the floor boards. I know that it's wrong. I know that I should be happy. I know that I should live for Ron only, like the way Helen lived for Paris back in the times of Troy. They gave everything up for love.

I often envy those great romances, wishing that I could understand them. I always felt safe knowing everything. As long as every fact was memorized and comprehended then I was going to be fine. But love is something that doesn't make sense to me; it's like a mile long calculus problem that won't work itself out.

I feel like I've lost my grip on life. Everything keeps spinning out of control. I can't make myself believe in Ron anymore. When he kisses me I cringe. When he touches me I want to run. Every time I try to stop myself I become angry. I rage on and on about things that don't mean anything. I yell at Ron until I've lost my breath, and what makes me even more irate is that he just takes it. He sits there, listening to me call him a selfish bastard, when it's me. It's always been me.

Ron deserves someone so much better then me. I can't even see what makes him love me. I'm just a bitch. A self-centered bitch who only wants you.

It's not fair. Why isn't? Why can't everyone just get what they want?

I'm tired now. It's over. There is nowhere left for me to run. No cliff left for me to jump. The bottomless pit I fell in so long ago has ended. Ron made sure of that, he was tired of catching me. I don't blame him.

Maybe it would be better if I just died. I could spare everyone the pain. It would be the one selfless act I could commit. Ron would be free of me. He could be given a chance to find someone new, better. Ron could get out of this horrible marriage with dignity and happiness. He could move on. Harry and Ginny wouldn't have to put up with my tears any more. I've been an unfixable problem, and somehow I've stumbled upon a quick solution.

It all seemed such a good plan. I could set up this huge dinner party, invite everyone, and then pretend to be sick. I'd just have to stay home. I'd convince Ron to go anyways, that way no one would come to stop me, instead they'd all be enjoying a lovely Hermioneless meal, and I'd be free to finally end it all. Even you wouldn't be able to stop me.

That night, the longest I have seen, passed by so quickly. If that makes any sense.

"_Ron just go," I said frustrated._

"_But Mione, this is your dinner party, I can't leave you. I'd feel like a bad husband or something…" he trailed off as he absentmindedly patted my head. _

_I cringed. "Go."_

_He gave me that look, the one that let me know nothing was the same, the one that hit me hard every time. It was the way he stared in to my eyes, trying to figure out what was wrong. It was no use. I'd shut him out already. He couldn't save me either._

"_Go," I whispered harshly. "Leave me alone, you're just giving me a migraine."_

_He turned, defeated, and made his way out the door._

_After he left I fell into the pillows and sobbed quietly until I heard the door click. Then I lifted my head and let the tears fall loudly into silence. It always had been silent. There was never any laughter. _

_I don't remember how long I cried, because I never paid any mind to the chiming of the clock. I do recall the moonlight. I finally left my tearstained bed when the little yellow pool of light shone enchantingly on the dark floor. It was then that I tiptoed across the wooden beams to the corner of our bedroom. Quietly I moved the chest, hoping there was no one to listen to its creaks across the old oak. It was only then, when I remembered no one could hear me, that I was truly alone. No one that mattered would find me for hours. With that sense I felt immense glee; I was finally free to lift the old faded rose from the elegantly carved black box._

_It lay there as it always had, reminding me of you. I held it gently letting my tears cascade onto the long dried petals. In some small part of my mind, I thought the salty water could bring the flower back to life. But the leaves only cracked in my fingers, falling away in a green shimmer._

_I hesitated for a moment's time, reminiscing. Images flooded into my mind. We were kissing beneath the lamp post. "NO. NO. NO."_

_I screamed into the night's sky. "NO. NO. NO. STOP IT. GO AWAY. I DON'T WANT YOU. I NEVER DID. WHY? WHY?"_

_I reached out for the small shinny dagger hiding in the velvet beneath the rose, a masked beauty. I dug into my arms over and over again. "NO." I cut off all of my hair. "I HATE YOU." I sliced at my legs. "LEAVE ME ALONE." I pushed the sharp edge into any white flesh I could find, marveling at the snowflake patterns. It reminded me of the snowflakes that fell in my hair when I saw you kissing her. "WHY?"_

"_Why?" I asked again into the air, softer. Wanting, needing to know. "Why don't you love me?"_

_Then I heard it softly, a deep incredible voice screaming softly at the door. "Stop it Hermione. You of all people..."_

_I look up and see him, a halo of white blonde shinning hair. And then it all fell away into red stained white snow. _

What happened next I'll never remember.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_In my mind, veiled in sleep I see faerie, small and delicate. In my dream she dances beautifully cold. Like the frost that covers all. She turns all color white with her innocence. Her light footsteps echo silently throughout the mist. Her grey skin radiates in the black night sky, dimming the light of the stars. All is purified in her glory, except for one, courageous rose colored blood red. It stands out deifying its very existence, yet it is not afraid. Its thorny steam grows higher then all the rest, and its blossom more alive than any other. _

_Because it does not submit easily to her will, the faerie is intoxicated by the rose. She spends more and more time gracefully dancing on its petals hoping it will become hers. She falls in love with the blood red flower, becoming so entranced that she forgets all her glory and hope. She inevitably succumbs to its power, not knowing what she has committed until it is too late._

_She never will forget the rose; it will haunt her thoughts for eternity._

"What the fuck are you doing here Malfoy?" Ron screamed loudly.

"I was in town and I thought I'd stop by…" he trailed off, and then his voice dripping in sarcasm he added, "I didn't expect to find this. And I'm beginning to wonder what has been going on in this 'perfect marriage'. What have you done to her, Weasley?"

"MY FAULT? BLOODY FUCKING SHIT! IT'S YOUR FAULT YOU STUPID LITTLE ASSHOLE."

"Calm down Weasel, don't be childish," Draco said, untouched by the words.

"HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO CALM DOWN, WHEN MY WIFE JUST ATTEMPTED SUICIDE?"

"Act like an adult," he sneered. "Now I'll ask you again, what have you done to her?"

Ron glared.

"If you've laid a hand on her in any way, I swear I'll kill you."

"She's not yours anymore Draco," Ron snarled, gesturing towards the bedroom where Hermione lay sleeping fitfully. "You had her, and you treated her like she was shit. This is your fault. You did this to her."

_One day, when the sky was grey and the wind blew round the meadow, the rose turned black and faded from view. It was lost to her eyes. At that moment the frost faerie stopped dancing and fell slowly onto the remnants of her love. She wept and wept, hoping her tears would bring the blood red blossom back. But it was in vain, for her tears were made of tiny diamonds that glittered on the wilting petals. _

_For eternity she sat, mourning the loss of her true love. In the deep hours of the darkest part of night she saw the rose in the stars growing taller and taller. Beside it was another flower of equal beauty that outshone all but her one red love. What was the meaning of this? The faerie thought. It was one of those nights, were the blackness seems to take hold of her, where she could feel it encompassing her, that he came. Another flower white and innocent, like her, began to grow beneath the ashes of the former red blossom. This gorgeous lily had been sent to save her. _

Draco shook his head in anger. "She's not yours either Ron. You think you saved her don't you? You think you're the hero of her life. Don't deny it, I can see it your face. You pride yourself in 'saving Hermione'. If that's what you want to call it. But what did you save her from? You can't erase the hurt in her life; you can't apologize for acts you haven't committed. Don't you understand? You did nothing for her."

"At least I never hurt her Malfoy. I never caused her pain," Ron said angrily. "You did, look at what you've done. She thinks I don't notice, but I see her looking at her hiding place. She kept a rose you gave her, dried and dead, like her heart. It's tucked away. She doesn't know, but I found it once. I know it was yours. What you did to her destroyed her. She thinks she is not worthy of love anymore."

Draco stared at him silently, his grey eyes unreadable.

"I don't understand how you can sit there and feel no guilt. I mean at least I tried. I gave it all I could to make life better for her."

_The sun rose earlier and earlier in the days of the white flower. The nights never seemed as dark, for the stars shone brightly. She began to dance again, covering all with her shimmering dust of innocence. Time passed by quickly, each day like the single movement of a butterfly wing in motion. Was this love? She often wondered late at night, lying in the snowy petals. For that was what she wanted more than all. _

_But it was not meant to be, because some nights, when all had fallen into sleeps sweet clutches she saw the rose. It gleamed in all its beauty, blinding her, and beside it the second flower grew tall too. She tried and tried to touch its silky blossom, but each time she reached out it crumpled in her eyes. And each time after that she cried tears of crystal. Eventually though, she tried her best to forget, though it kept coming back. Often she wondered what had happened to the light the white lily had first brought her._

"You tried and failed. You don't even love her," Draco whispered harshly, cutting the tension with his razor sharp words of hate.

"Don't say that! You don't even know the half of it," Ron said, trying to remain calm. "I fucking love that woman. I would do anything to make her better, even if it meant dying."

"Anything, eh?"

"Yes, anything."

"Would you let me talk to her?" he asked, seeing Ron tense up. He knew that this was something that would anger Ron.

"And what good would that do?"

"I want to explain…"

"Explain what exactly Malfoy? Explain why you cheated on her? Make her understand why she wasn't good enough for you?"

"Enough!" Draco yelled standing up, his eyes glowing eerily in the dark.

"If I thought that would do any good, I would let you. I would wake her up right now, so that you could make her life better. But you would only create more damage. She doesn't need that right now. Don't be selfish. One more thing could push her over the edge again, and next time I might not catch her."

"If that is what you think, then obviously there's no way of getting around you," Draco said, standing up, "at least for now, that is. I will talk to her. With or without your permission."

"Leave," Ron replied and opened the door. "If you touch her, you die."

Draco said nothing as he walked by Ron out onto the streets of London.

_She grew more and more unhappy, and so she thought of the rose every day. How she wanted it back. How she yearned for its smell, for its color that was so different from all the rest. How she dreamed of dancing on its dewy petals again. She loved the blood red flower with all her heart. Without it she wanted to become mortal and slip away into a world of shadows where the dead lived on forever. But there was always the second flower that stood beside it, taking her place._

_Then one day it was there, growing upwards into the sky high above the lily. She reached towards it, aching for its love. She forgot everything that had brought her back to reality. All her former life vanished in a split second as she soared upward to the rose. And then before she knew it was gone. Everything was gone. She stood alone in the dark with nothing._

I awoke surrounded by pure white bed sheets, so different from the bloodstained ones of the previous night. The cuts on my body had all been magically healed, save one hidden above my ankle. I thought I would keep it there to remind me forever of yet another failure. To make sure I remember that it had been real, because there were no other signs of what had gone so horribly wrong the night before.

I sat up ever so slowly and saw Ron looking at me with worry. I smiled shyly at him, like it was the first time we had ever met. Yet he only looked back at me, trying to understand what was deep inside of my heart. I saw that his face was lined with worry and pale with exhaustion. I hung my head in shame, my attempted suicide had been just more act of cruelty towards him. So in a small attempt to make up for it, I beckoned him over.

He came cautiously. "I love you Hermione. I hope you know that," he whispered into my ear after kissing my forehead.

"And I love you too," I replied while pulling him into bed with me.

We lay there for hours, maybe, in silence. Each with our own thoughts, pondering what ifs, I was so wrapped up in my mind, that I almost forgot he was there until his deep breathing shook my questions. He was reaching an almost dreamlike state. But before I let him sleep I wanted to know one thing. Had you really come last night? Or was it just my romantic imagination? Were you really the angel with the golden white halo?

"Did he come last night?" I whisper into Ron's ear.

"Who?" he asked groggily.

"Draco?"

Ron paused for a moment. "No."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The fireflies danced before my eyes, their soft glow shinning in the velvety dark. The summer wind, so soft like the clouds themselves, blew my short cropped hair round my head. Though the brown locks often ended covering my face, I could still see the golden yellow lights float into the empty space. They reminded me of myself, for I had been sailing by on a small breeze since that fateful night. The days passed slowly, uneventfully, one routine after another. Ron went to the office, while I stayed home and 'recovered', as he put it. Yet it wasn't really something I could recover from, not like the flu or a broken leg. Suicide or rather a failed attempt can't be cured by a pill or a shot. There is no way of ever fully riding one's self of its nightmare. Instead I hide away from the memories, forcing myself to ignore the curved scar on my ankle. Solitude was often what I sought; fireflies were often what I found.

It was always the same, wake up late, drink two cups of tea, eat three biscuits, and then walk toward the park. Every night I would end up alone on a wooden bench, save the summer fireflies. Yet one day it was different. I got out of bed early, and found myself wandering the roads of muggle London absentmindedly. I drank coffee and ate a blueberry muffin. I even bought a flower, a beautiful pink rose. A willow became my new hideaway. As it swayed back and forth I was sent into sweet sleep, where for the first time in days I didn't dream of the grey faerie or the red rose. Instead everything was bright, almost white. A new innocence.

When I awoke the sun was breaking through the thin multitude of branches. Like a shimmer of hope, when there is no more in the world, a cool warmth on my face. I smiled, and stood. I felt something fall. Turning round, I caught a glimpse of cream colored parchment lying on the emerald green grass.

_Tonight. 3. Here. _

_-Draco _

I blinked, suddenly unable to see, for the tears cascading down my cheeks. You had come back finally. The long lost prince remembered his damsel in distress. It was all going to fall into place now, the unfinished saga was now ready to be rewritten. You did love me after all. All those pieces of hope were now about to find their answer to the riddle. Happiness enveloped me.

Yet I was never more irate. How dare you? Just prance in and sweep me away, after years of forsaking my heart. What ever happened to all those promises, Draco? Remember. _I'll love you forever._

What is love to you?

Nonetheless I found myself abandoning Ron in the middle of the night, he lay sleeping so soundly on the pristine white bed, so pure. Guilt hit me then, hard. It felt like being punched in the stomach a million times over. Walking out on all his help, staining all his love, I felt inhuman. I was some heartless being that understood neither right nor wrong. His beautiful untouched heart now darkened, tainted by my black hands of deceit.

It all felt so ironic, that this was to be the way I found my love again. By betraying the very savior of my life, in the same way you had destroyed me. But then again, I was ready for it all to be over. And Ron deserved more than me, the end had come.

"Goodbye," I whispered to Ron, as I bent to kiss his forehead lightly.

No tears fell as I silently shut the door on him, and with that I was thrown into reality. Ron was no longer there to shelter me beneath his wings. For the first time in years I was on my own, without my hero. Suddenly everything seemed so evil, more sinister. The stars themselves were only small beacons in the night, no more than a faint glow. I felt small, so helpless without him. Yet free.

Ron was no longer there to hold me back. Finally the world was unfolding before me, in all its misery and glory. And somewhere out there you were waiting.

I found myself running down the empty concrete walkways. My small footsteps were the only noise echoing throughout the silence, a beautiful song of truth that led me to you. Surprise flooded within me, more so than I could ever begin to imagine. I was so overcome by you that I found movement impossible. I had underestimated your presence.

"Hermione?" you said softly, and then with a smile, "You're late."

I stared into your grey eyes searching for a change, yet I could find nothing. Only the overcast sky I had always known. Suddenly a feeling of anger I had never known came over me.

"And apparently you have nothing to say," you remarked, taking a step closer. "So listen."

Finding my voice I whispered, too angry for shouting, "How dare you?"

Ignoring my words you continued, "Hermione, this may be our only chance to…well…explain ourselves…"

"Explain myself, Draco?" I said, with raised eyebrows trying to control my emotions. "What ever I have to 'explain' you don't deserve to know. I never hurt you. In all those years I never wronged you. And now you come back and demand my explanation?"

You seemed rather taken aback by my harshness and cynical sarcasm. "Look I'm sorry. I can't change it though. You know she was nothing to me. You were the one I loved. Still love."

I burst into an insane fit of laughter. "That's hilarious, really it is. You're sorry? Sorry for what exactly? Cheating on me? For God's sake it was Christmas."

Silence fell between us, as the willow swayed overhead. I waited for excuses, for lies. I wanted for you to say that wasn't really you, that you had been off buying my present. But more than anything I wanted to forgive you. I hoped that I would be able to fall for you again.

Softly you said, "It was only that once Hermione. And it was a mistake. We all make mistakes."

I erupted, control forsaken. "ONLY ONCE? WHAT THE FUCK MALFOY?" I screamed spitting out your name with hatred. "YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I, IT BECAME EVERY NIGHT. YOU WERE WITH HER CONSTANTLY. YOU LIED ALMOST EVERY DAY. MY HURT AND TEARS WERE NOTHING TO YOU. AS LONG AS YOU COULD RUN AWAY AND FUCK HER."

"I'M SO FUCKING SORRY THAT I COULDN'T HANDLE YOU ANYMORE. MISS. PERFECT LITTLE BITCH. EVERYTHING I DID, EVERY WORD I SAID WAS WRONG. YOU KNOW WHAT?"

"WHAT?" I yelled back, my words cracking.

"YOU'RE NOT HUMAN. THAT'S WHY I DID IT. THAT'S MY EXCUSE."

Your words rung out in the air, as I collapsed onto the soft grass. "You're right; humans can't understand the pain I've been through."

You knelt down and lifted my face up towards yours.

"What happened to all your promises Draco? Did you ever mean them? Or was it all a perfect lie?"

"I've always loved you."

I had held back all my tears throughout every insult you had spat out at me. Yet at those words I let them go. I gave up. I gave myself to you, all of you. It felt so right to trust you again. For some reason it seemed different.

Because looking into your eyes I believed you. In that moment you were brought back to life. The world suddenly sharpened back into focus, while the sky reclaimed its rightful place. The wind didn't seem so strong anymore.

Years of hurt were erased before my eyes, while I gazed into yours and basked in your love. The great stories of romance came back to me. The epic tales of the past were rewritten in my old broken memory that was being remade. Everything brightened. My innocence shinned once more, like your love.

We leaned in slowly, cautiously before the finale. A kiss more beautiful than life itself sealed our fate.

"I'll come back," I whispered in your ear as I stood. "Ron will wake soon."

"Promise?"

I kissed you and left. I knew that despite all the pain of our past I would see you again willingly. Second chances are what _happily ever afters_ are made of. They are the key factor of true love.

And isn't that all I ever wanted?

The sun rose in soft pinks, lighting my way back home to a shattered world. The sidewalks welcomed my tired feet, and brought me back to Ron, who still slept peacefully. Silently I laid my head beside his and fell into dreams, surrounded by his strong arms.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

From black and white sprang red. Beauty instigated drastic terror, while hiding cleverly behind its deception. Yet weren't we all covered in façade? You and I both pretended to play the part of characters we new nothing of. In spite of this I found my Juliet falling for your Romeo.

I believed that you would revive my dead heart that had dried so long ago by all my tears of salt. But something deep within me, buried in unknown wisdom called out, whispered to me late in the night when no other earthly voice could be heard. It spoke harsh words of warning.

_What once was, will be reflected in future's mirror.. What the past has hidden, will again be uncovered. _

_Pieces cannot be remade to fit color. No matter the strength._

Those bits of foolish advice were forsaken for peaceful dreams of you. In those sweet nightmares you would come to me and declare you love. We would run away and live on a steep rocky cliff overlooking the azure ocean tucked away from the world. We would grow old together and die loving one another. And so with a smile I would always awake. For once it all seemed tangible. Until I awoke in Ron's arms.

It was all so ironic that he did not seem to notice my new found love. He, who watched so closely, overlooked this as a sign of recovery. My bright eyes and rosy checks were like awards for him to display to the world, showing them that it was he who had saved me. Yet it was only ever you, the same one who also scarred me. Who had once made only darkness, now brought light.

That very light echoed throughout my life. It calmed me, to the point where I never yelled at Ron. Instead I remained isolated from him, which he thought was perfectly normal for a recovering suicidal person. It was my way out, this excuse. I no longer felt the guilt of leaving him, because it was very rare that I ever spoke to him. Ron was not offended by our lack of conversation in the least.

No, he preferred long nights of sweet dreams, and holding me tightly as though I was always his. He felt that he protected me from the shadows of the night. Yet I only wanted to escape to you. Ron's small arms felt nothing like yours. His were smooth and toned. Yours were worn in and strong. When you held me I felt like no one could touch me. Like the world would never find us.

Nonetheless I would wait out the night, counting down the minutes when Ron would leave for work, and I could run away to the park to see you. Escape to my new found paradise. We would spend mornings sitting side by side on an old wooden bench watching people's lives unfold before us, afternoons wandering throughout the rose gardens, and twilights splashing in the fountains. It was a fairytale, the park.

"Draco," I said softly in your ear as I took your hand and pointed it towards the glowing lights, "Look, fireflies."

You smiled and guided my hand upwards, "Stars. Remember?"

I laughed, "They were all there."

"Just like I promised."

"Draco, do you ever think about what it was like…" I trailed off as your body tensed beneath me. Broken promises echoed in my mind, words that now meant almost nothing. Yet ironic that now they were fulfilled.

"No," you said as if to end it. We were stepping over the line into dangerous untouched territory, in which you never spoke off.

Yet I could not make myself stop persisting, "Don't you wonder where we all would have been if it had not happened?"

You looked at me sadly, as if the whole world was worth sacrificing to take it back. To make it all better.

We referred to your betrayal as it. We never needed to say it out loud, it was just something understood. In all reality I was more comfortable talking about it than you. For whenever she was brought up you'd turn your head away remain silent.

"I mean would I be with Ron? Would we be in England? Would life be…I dunno…perfect?"

"I don't know, Hermione," you said exasperated. "I don't want to think about it."

"Fine," I said and let the silence fall between us.

Suddenly the fireflies didn't seem so beautiful. And the stars less bright, as if some were missing. Like someone had taken them away, trapped them beneath blackness.

"Ron's waiting for you."

"I know," I said still gazing at the glow. "Goodnight."

As I walked through night, words flowed in a mind, a poem I had once written, long before I had ever understood what loneliness was. Yet now as I danced across the pavement, wet from rain, these phrases I had etched in parchment long ago never seemed more gracefully fitting.

_Darkness falls into a velvety blanket_

_Silence encompasses the world_

_Its creatures unmoving_

_Then a shadow of the past_

_Something long forgotten_

_Passes over_

_A memory is remembered_

_Evoking pain of a life overlooked_

_A faint light appears on the horizon_

_As a new day begins vanishing a painful past_

_Never to be found_

Why? Why wouldn't you answer me? Fate doomed me curious in nature, but it withheld the very information I craved for. I needed to know her name. Nothing more, nothing less. A name made a person, and a person made it real. Reality made sense to me, made me move on. But without it then I remain trapped forever in what ifs.

I don't know what's worse, loving you and not knowing or forgetting you and knowing.

Suddenly I found myself at my doorstep; the questions of last night's wandering mix together, become one, and surround every good memory I ever had. My eyes closed trying to regain a sense of reality, yet when they reopened I saw Ron standing at the door.

"Good morning Hermione," he said with a smile and coffee cup in hand. "Where have you been?"

"Running," I said immediately becoming very out of breath. "I couldn't sleep, so I fancied a run."

"Oh," Ron said while handing me a cup of my own.

I sipped slowly and watched him, his beautiful red hair disheveled from the night, his pants still too short, and his blue eyes slightly out of focus. This is what I had. Blonde hair, grey eyes, and lightly tanned skin were what I wanted, but would never have. Strange it was how everything was so close within my grasp, yet so intangible.

What is love? Is it always so two sided? Is hate always connected with it, as closely as betrayal? I wonder can people ever really find their soul mate and live without temptation or rage for the rest of their lives. I mean are people capable of that, love itself never ending? Or is it society's myth?

Maybe love is just all a part of fate's twisted nature. We were not all meant to live in ease and comfort. Yet how unfair it is that we can do nothing to avoid it, for fate controls us all. We have known that since the beginning of time. Sophocles thought enough about it to write it down in to words, to show the world. He left his mark scratched into time's rusted books, aged and yellow.

Now that I think about it, are you what I want? You promise me the impossible, the incredibly brilliant but things never to be known to mortals. Or would I prefer Ron? A man who makes small promises, such as washing the dishes, or taking me out. He never breaks them, and never forgets them. They are always finished.

To fly away happy with the predicament of being alone is all I ask for. I don't want these choices. This power to destroy a man's happiness, for it shall happen. I want to go to a place where rose petals litter the soft green grass. A place where the sun shines coolly on lily pads floating lazily by on small waves. Where the trees grow into the sky, with no limits. Where time slows to almost nothing. A place where fireflies dance all day.

Yet even in my mind I can't see it. Only misconceptions of old cobwebs and yellow stained pages, where the words are scratched out so many times that it means nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was raining again, and Ron's snores echoed softly through the pitter patter. His chest rose and fell blissfully unaware of the electric blue lighting. I had been dreaming of death, when bolts of black thunder shock me alive. Strangely surreal were my nightmares, whispers followed me as I floated beside a great comet. A story unfolded before me in the velvet dark of white lighted stars.

The voice quietly sang eerily high and sweet, _"Winged, she once was, who soars through the night sky. And gleaming are her eyes that gaze upon the heavens. Her skin pale as moonbeams, shines in the dark. For a second's glance she is seen, her beauty surpassing all. A flash of light in the world of night. Yet she is extinguished by her forceful collision, gone from this world. Though her memory is not erased. It remains a grotesque scar that runs deep across this terrible beauty."_

I awoke to find my fingers had already discovered the old scar. Deep, though it was maybe it could be healed. Maybe this terrible beauty I had become could be softened.

Ron's hands danced gracefully across my face, until they found their destination. In his sleep he pulled me close, so that I would not get wet from the rain. Little did he know its drops fell on the other side of the window. I laughed gently and let myself melt into him. Sweet sleep encompassed my thoughts, all memory of dead comets long gone.

The next time my eyelids fluttered open the sun greeted me with its harsh gleam. Ron had left for work already. Around the bed scattered robes and books lay neatly in their mess. The summer storm long gone, its rushing thunderbolts ancient. Lighting was a conflict solved many times over. White, yellow and beautiful...like... My thoughts faded, my mind reaching out for something I was supposed to remember. Yet it could recall nothing except 'white, yellow..."

Suddenly it found its way into my head, _"Meet me at the fountain tomorrow morning, Hermione. 10. I have to talk to you about..."_

What? About what? Damn memory. It always forgot the important parts. Still royally pissed, I ripped the sheets off and looked over at the clock. 10:30 it blinked teasing me.

"SHIT! OH BLOODY FUCK!"

I ran out in a whirlwind. The sidewalks were dried and bright, clean almost. But I didn't stop to look. Nothing mattered, except finding you. I passed by people, blurred in a spectrum of brilliant colors. It was like watching flowers fly by, their vines closely intertwined. A distant gray figure, spurting gorgeous blue mermaid waves emerged in my foresight. I speeded up, thinking, maybe you waited. But I found only small children splashing in the emerald azure stone sea. They saw me, and pointed to a note was laid on the marble bench.

_I waited too long. I can't stay forever. Tonight under the lamp post, midnight._

_Draco_

He waited too long? I wondered how he felt, now that he understood. I waited hours on that winter day, only to find misery.

The world seemed too silent as I stumbled down the cobbled streets back towards home. Its music had faded so that the wind's breath upon my face seemed like a cymbal crashing. Tears streamed nosily down my face for reasons unknown. Why did everything have to be so complicated? As soon as I had climbed one hill another snowcapped mountain stood in my path. Would it always be like this? It wasn't fair. I had paid my dues; I had suffered through broken promises, meaningless weddings, and hopeless nights. But would love ever find me? Or am I fated to die alone never knowing the bliss everyone else around me feels?

Couples walked hand in hand down the sidewalk. Toddlers destined to marry chased one another round the park, and elderly men helped their wives out the doors. They were all stories within themselves, a life waiting to be written. Years ago I would have sat down on a wooden bench and wrote their tales all day long, until I had, in essence, captured them. Now though, I was too caught up in my own web of conflict to waste an afternoon writing of other's dreams. Yet how I longed to go back to that life, where I lived in the books.

Slowly the pairs began to suffocate me with their tales. I saw in every face a pained expression. Stumbling away from them I ran until the great oak door of my house stood in front of my face. Fumbling for the keys, I took one last look at the pleasant day of grief before locking the door behind me. Then in a hurried haze I found the half empty firewhiskey bottle and downed the rest before Ron came home.

When he finally did I was huddled in the corner lying in the crisp white curtains calling for him.

"Ron," I cooed in a drunken whisper. "Come and get me."

He dropped his parchment and quickly crossed the room. "Hermione, what has gotten in to you?"

"Well, let me see, precisely half a bottle of your firewhiskey," I laughed. "If you want some more I can send the maid out for another. She's a very nice women Maria...what's-her-face..."

"We don't have a maid," Ron said harshly as he bent to lift my body up.

"Ouch, careful Mister, my future lies in this thing," I yelled pointing to my head to let him know that if he bumped again there'd be hell to pay.

"Sorry, now tell me what happened," he ordered as he set me down on the white couch Mrs. Weasley had given us for our marriage.

"Well you see I drank the whole thing..."

"I know you did, Hermione, but _why_?"

"Dunno," I said with a lopsided smile. "Maybe you should have some and then we could have a party just like we did in school. We could invite Harry, Ginny, and the twins. And then Neville and even Snape. I'd bet Snape would be fun. Come on, just like old times."

"We didn't party at Hogwarts," Ron replied sharply as he left to go make coffee.

"Why are you being such a square," I giggled. "Square...my friend used to call me that before I was a witchy witch."

"Jesus Christ!" Ron yelled at the coffee maker.

"He doesn't exist!" I retorted before entering another fit of giggles.

"Here," he said after handing me a steaming mug of thick brown liquid. It was straight black.

"Ick, I think not," I said, pushing it away.

But Ron wouldn't give up; he shoved in back into my trembling hands. So I knocked it away, watching the black stain the pristine white carpet.

"FUCK!" he screamed. "GOD DAMN IT HERMIONE! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU!"

I looked at him quietly, and gently leaned my face towards his. Then in a delicate whisper I replied, "I love you."

He stopped for a moment and let me kiss him. Then everything hazed over, as I fell into a deep sleep.

Eleven chimes rumbled loudly through my fitful slumber, forcing me awake. The white glow of the living room hurt my tired eyes, and made my head spin even faster. I pulled my aching hair back into a bun and stood rubbing my pupils awake. I looked at the clock, the time not registering in my brain.

It was as if something possessed me, for I floated out the door and onto the dusty pavement. I was brought to the lamp post in the park where I found you, awaiting my arrival.

"Early I see," you said acknowledging my presence. "Making up for lost time?"

I just stood and looked into his grey eyes, my love for Ron forgotten.

"No answer?" you sneered.

Something was wrong; you were never short with me, not even when I found you kissing her. You had always been a gentleman even if you weren't honest. Yet now something was inside you.

"I can't wait for ever!"

Something inside my tired body stirred. "Fuck you."

"What?"

"I can't believe you, Draco!" my voice grew louder. This argument was not just over something as trivial as my lateness. It meant more; it stood for all my pain. "I waited for hours that night, and then for years. I waited for you to come back to me for 7 years. How fucking dare you? And then you show up with nothing, won't even explain yourself! And you just fucking expect me to take you back. Well you better bloody tell me right now what the fuck I did wrong to make you…CHEAT!"

You grabbed me; I felt your small nails dig into my exposed arms. In your eyes I say a rage I never knew existed. But it calmed almost as fast as it had come. "I'm sorry Hermione…"

"_Why_?" I persisted.

"Because I was a bastard, a stupid fucking idiot…"

"And what do you want from me now?" I asked timidly. "Why didn't you come back years ago? What made this summer so important?"

"I broke up with my girlfriend because I realized how much she reminded me of you, and how much I wanted you back."

"It took that for you to come back to me?" I said turning away.

"Yes and no…" you stammered. "Hermione, I knew I always loved you, but I thought you'd never forgive me, and I was too scared of your rejection until now."

"Did you ever love me?"

You looked at me as though I were a confused child who couldn't figure out how to spell the word right. Then you burst into laugher and kissed me. "You're so stupid sometimes."

I kissed you back, reliving what I had forgotten. Dancing with my storybook destiny again, I found myself filled with laughter. We collapsed onto the cool grass and giggled beneath the rusted lamp post, until we couldn't breathe.

"Run away with me?" you whispered in the dark after we had fallen silent.

Inside my head images of us riding off into the sunset played over and over. Pictures of you and I growing old together, telling one another jokes in wooden rocking chairs. Snapshots of our grandchildren asking for a story, while we smiled at one another. It seemed like a fairytale to me.

What you had taken away from me was now willingly being handed back. But to take it would destroy another's _happily ever after_…


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The old door creaked open, letting the faint golden yellow light seep between the small sea of cracks. I stepped in, lightly sailing across the ancient floorboards. All was right, nothing out of place. Turning towards the bedroom I expected to hear his snores. They had always comforted me, allowing me to breathe, for it meant Ron was still oblivious.

"Hermione," he called from a different direction.

I froze, suddenly the summer sun's rays morphed into winter's frigid icicles.

"Why didn't you leave any for me?"

"What?" I called softly across the room, unaware of his meaning.

He gestured to the empty bottle of firewhiskey, "I know."

I stumbled and fell on the cold hallway floor.

Ron laughed loudly. "Ginny saw you with _him_ a week ago, kissing in the park. She told me tonight when I apparated to her house. See I couldn't find you, thought maybe you had been kidnapped. But I suppose that's why you always went. Well you fooled me," he slurred, remaining eerily calm.

I remained silent. So Ginny knew, everyone knew. Soon the hate would come flooding in from all those I held dear.

"You know, I thought you of all people, Hermione, would understand what it feels like to be cheated on. But I guess if you did you would've left me some of this," he said pointing to the bottle again. "It's just wonderful, though, that there happened to be a bottle of this stronger muggle stuff in that cabinet."

In his hands I saw a bottle of vodka.

Ron continued unaware that his words were mixed together and almost impossible to understand, "It's ironic Hermione. But what that bastard did to you, you turned right around and did it to me. Does this fucking ring mean anything to you?"

"Ron…I…"

"FUCK OFF! WE MADE A GOD DAMN PROMISE!"

"I know…" I stuttered, ashamed that I had put him through what you had done to me. "You deserve…"

"A GIRL WHO LOVES ME AS MUCH AS I LOVE HER!" he screamed interrupting me. Ron stood and crossed over to me; grabbing hold of my bare arms he lifted me and held me tight against the wall. "FUCK HERMIONE, WHEN HE CAME I TOLD HIM I WOULD DIE FOR YOU! I SAID…"

"He came?" I said, cutting him off. "But you said…"

"I SAID HE DIDN'T BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO LOSE YOU TO THAT BASTARD! I GUESS I DID ANYWAYS! JUST FUCK OFF! GO FUCKING SCREW HIM, YOU KNOW HE'S USING YOU!"

I stopped and stared at Ron, deep into his hazel eyes I saw the hurt I had found etched beneath the walls of my heart. And suddenly I felt like a great monster. One so cruel and deceitful that it was just a shadow of blackness; I had taken from Ron his innocence. That crime would never be paid for; punishment of any kind meant nothing, because I could never give it back. I had stolen Ron's love without a second glance. Fuck _happily ever after_, there's not a single goddamn prince out there. Or princess for that matter.

"Look Ron," I started.

"Out," he said in an angry whisper, a tone I had never known before.

With that I turned and ran, ran back to you, to your promise to disappear.

Everyone knew, my reputation was now skewed, and I would be forever remembered as the girl who had an affair that broke Ron's heart. I was tainted, staining whatever fell in my path. I could almost hear Mrs. Weasley tell the neighbors about 'that good-for-nothing-wife'. Was this really what I had become? That sort of girl mothers try to hide their sons from, the slut every boy uses and then discards. Was this to be my new face?

Yet how dare I? How could I possess sympathy for myself? I, who could fully understand Ron's pain, still felt sorry for my own misfortune. This in itself was humiliating. I was a woman, my actions were my own and no one was to blame. Whatever acts I had committed were done willingly by my hands. I was no longer ignorant. Yet why did I feel like a tragic hero? Was my punishment wholly deserved?

Where had that beautiful young girl, who would stay up late to read, gone wrong? The one who would dance beneath the summer sun all day long, where had she hidden herself? Where was Hermione? This new devil in sheep's clothing was not the girl I was. Images of my innocent childhood came flooding back as fast as the tears streamed down my face. So this was why Peter Pan never wanted to grow up, how I wished that Neverland existed.

For love is too pure to be found among the old. It's most beautiful form radiates through youth. I don't believe that any of us can love as hard as an eight year old. With age, love and fate twist themselves into reality, which brings pain and shattered lives. Take me away to live with children, whose sweet composure never fails to enlighten even the wisest old sage.

"Hermione?" a small but deep voice called out from a distant place, yet loud enough to interrupt my thoughts.

"Harry?" I asked in return. "Why are you here?"

He shuffled his feet and said, "I figured you come to the park to wait for him, and I thought you might…want some company. You see, Ginny told me, because…well…"

"You don't hate me?"

"Look, it's not really my place. I mean Ron's always been my best friend, but so have you. I'm not 15 anymore. I don't have to choose sides," Harry said to his dirty shoes.

I jumped up and hugged him tight, glad to know there was one person left who wouldn't despise me. "You know they're all going hate me?"

"Well…I don't…think…"

"It's ok, I understand."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. "But I…"

"What happened to being a kid? It seems like we missed out," I said, interrupting his thought process. "I mean the second we got out of Hogwarts and even before hand, there was always the war. It feels like we never had time to grow up, like we skipped a whole phase…and whatever it was it was important."

Harry looked and me and nodded.

"Why did I have to fuck it all up?"

He remained silent and gestured towards the bench.

"I never in a million years thought I would do this. I just want to be kids again…" my voice broke and I leaned into Harry's shoulder.

He reached out and stroked my hair, bringing restless sleep.

When I awoke the sun had already risen and Harry's arms were holding me tight towards his chest. The cheerful chatter of aimless bird's song filled the sweet morning air and a soft layer of dew covered us like a blanket. He snored quietly, peacefully in my ear. If only I could freeze time forever and never move.

"Harry," I whispered sitting up. "Wake up; Ginny will wonder if you've run off with Draco too."

"Hmmm," he said as I shook sleep from his tired eyes.

"It's time to go," I repeated.

"But Mione it's too early."

"Just go, I don't want to get in any more trouble," I said.

Harry stood and looked deep into my glazed eyes, "Fine I'm going. Just promise me you'll write and come back to see me."

"Promise," I smiled.

"I love you," he said before walking off, away from me.

Deep within me, I knew I would never see Harry again. I knew he'd go home to Ginny and they'd marry eventually, soon after, red headed children with emerald green eyes would run wild round their blooming garden. Ron and his new wife would laugh together and wait for their first baby, as the hopeful Godparents. Harry and Ginny would grow old together, and I would fade from memory, becoming a fragmented piece of the forgotten past. The only time they would recall my face would be when Hogwarts was mentioned. Then maybe they would remember me in my childhood before this corruption found me. Eventually though they would die hand in hand together in old age, blissfully unaware of my existence.

I sighed, but that was a long time in coming, as were you. I'd said that I'd meet you again at midnight. That was a whole day away, hours to replay last night's scenes in my mind. Minutes to rethink what I had done wrong. Ages to wonder if Ron would ever forgive me.

Yet the day was young and maybe just once I could slip back into youth. Maybe I could swim in the azure fountain, air dry on the steaming stone beneath the golden fire rays of the sun and daydream of fairytales. Maybe I could close my eyes and awake in a glorious castle of my dreams. Or maybe I could gracefully dance across the soft green grass ignorant to those who stood in the shadows and sing as though no one was gifted with hearing. Or just maybe I could forget pain for a day.

Instead I let sleep take me again, hoping that the next face I would see was to be yours.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_A light mist had set in drawing closer and closer to the crowds beneath the Eiffel Tower. It was a grey overcast day in Paris, yet still they had come, their umbrellas ready to open at the slightest drizzle. Men, women, and children of all ethnicity waited patiently in line. Each had a different face a different story, but to the color blinded old women, sitting on the tattered park bench, they were all the same. Nonetheless she wrote about them all, painted them a new picture of beautiful greens and yellows._

_She came everyday to watch the crowds, a red notebook clasped tightly in her weather-beaten fingers. She would sit beneath the same dilapidated oak, with its broken branches and pealing bark, creating a world in blue pen. The regulars knew her by face only, for she never spoke. No one knew where she came from, but no one could remember a time when she wasn't there. She was ageless, unbreakable._

_When the fog finally extended its long fingers and the rain fell, black umbrellas bloomed before the woman's eyes like a funeral garden. Yet faraway she could see one lone red flower held by an old man that had already lived a life worth writing. Beneath him three beautiful children danced and beside him his wife stood smiling despite the drizzle. Picture perfect, the old women thought, a fantasy._

My sleep filled eyelids blinked heavily in the darkness. Fireflies danced before me like the delicate emerald faeries of a dream. Soft music, almost whispers, drifted round my face enchanting me with sweet melody. I wanted never to move, nor speak, but rather remain motionless under the intoxicating spell of beauty. Yet the summer night beckoned me, calling out my name, grasping my fingers in its silvery moonlight.

Standing in the shadows of the willows I turned upward, gazing upon the heavens. For a moment I let myself spiral back to fairytales that I had once lost myself in. I recalled all the timeless heroines that had called upon the stars for courage, and felt my voice call out for that same confidence. Yet no sound echoed through the park, but rather a strange heavy silence encompassed me. As I spun around to leave I remembered the tattered red notebook lying on the old wood, refusing to be forgotten. Unable to cast it aside, I picked up the worn paper and tucked it gently away.

I let my feet stumble upon the paved path beneath the lamp posts. Agelessly twisted beams of rust encompass a glorious pool of light which casts stained golden circles on the cobbled walkways. The shadowed branches dart into the gleaming bricks, while a small leaf falls gracefully, dancing the dark away. Sailing beneath the lamppost, its innocent existence is captured and preserved by the ancient structure of hope. It will live on long after the winter, where the leaf awaits certain death. For it will always shine away even the blackest of nights, they are angels of the streets and mothers of the wanderers.

How I needed a mother, one to protect me in my time of need. But instead I stood in the light of the lamp praying to whatever there is out there for forgiveness. Childhood. Bravery. Happiness. Love. You.

I waited, watching the grey clouds drift overhead. From far off I heard the chimes ring twelve times, midnight, the witching hour, the time where muggles experience "magic". For a second I felt like a seven year old on Christmas morning. The presents were waiting before me wrapped in all their glory. Santa had come in the early hours and left even more brilliant packages of red, green, and gold. Yet the tired mother and father insisted on waiting until 10 to open them. What torture it took to pass time. That same pure joy and impatience rose up within my heart.

Somehow I remained still, waiting for you. For my Prince. It was to be the golden moment of my existence, the one I would tell my grandchildren and they in turn would pass it down. It would become everything I ever dreamed off. Your love, the greatest treasure of all, was upon me.

Seconds toiled by as I hummed the faerie music soft and sweet. Minutes rolled across the sky before my eyes as I gazed upon the stars, and soon hours stole away. Dread filled me, a sinking feeling of hate. I was sailing across the sapphire sea knowing that what I was looking for was buried deep beneath the turbulent waves. I felt the immense fear of knowing that soon I would be drowning in the darkest pit of sea foam.

You had not come.

On the surface I convinced myself that maybe you had just forgotten or were running late. I played the reverse psychology game. I even lied to myself, creating an elaborate tale in which you had been captured and taken hostage. But deep within, I knew.

You were not coming.

I reached out for my notebook, the only companion I had left that still loved. It was the one thing left that still valued my soul. So with trembling hands and a blue pen I wrote:

_Dropped_

_Shamed loss of paradoxical tragedy _

_Amounts to nothing_

_Alone beneath the deep waves of sorrow I sleep _

_Sailing through lonely mountains of loveless past_

_Someone conquer me_

_Before the sea comes_

And then as the sun, in soft pinks and grays, rose I surrendered myself to the salty tears of a lover twice defied. Collapsing onto the hard dewy stones I called out in hatred, pain, and grief. Why did I not deserve your love?

Or rather why did you feel the need to abandon me not once but twice? I had never wronged you, yet instead loved you more then your mother. I kissed you with my eyes open. I held you tighter than a child. I worshipped you and placed you higher on the altar than God. Nevertheless you betray me. I wonder, are you with her now? Does she live here in London too? Is that why you came back?

So much I was blinded too.

Oh I see it now, the irony, I wronged Ron for nothing. My misery is truly beautifully written, worthy of a Shakespearean tragedy. This is my punishment, to teach the monster within me a lesson. It is to squash my idealism, my foolishness, my rashness. Well it was well taught I understand my mistake, for it remains the biggest of my entire life. If I could see Ron now I would beg a thousand apologies. I would repent myself to him. If only…

But I cannot go back now; it is useless. I should've taken death when I had the chance, it would've left Ron in grief, but at least a bittersweet one. Now I leave him in honest destructive agony. I am sorry Ron, and I am sorry in everyway a woman can be sorry.

I stand alone now, beneath the lamp post mourning lovers of two different creeds.

Tears roll down my cheeks the size of rose petals, as I force myself to face the truth. You were never what I thought. Instead you were malicious, unfaithful, and ugly. Your very soul was blackened, a hideous underworld in which I tried to dance in. Yet it is true that I loved that part about you, so different it was to Ron. Nonetheless I believed that deep down in the darkest corner there was light shinning, waiting for me. I see know whatever flame there was it had burnt out long before I knew you.

I was a dreamer, you made me one. For within my dreams you were what I wanted. I was wisher, you taught that. You gave me the stars. But I was a writer. You stole that from me.

No more will I feel the sweet enticing ecstasy of words. Never again will I write through a child's eye. What was once my world, my canvas, my glory has now been diminished to nothing more then a pleasurable hobby. And for that I will mourn more than any other thing that can be taken away.

For a writer I once was an illustrator of fairytales. I wrote of intoxicating enchantments that I had never seen, felt, smelled, or tasted unless it was scrawled out on the creamy pages of a book. Beauty had never fallen so elegantly in my lap. Bravery was a word whose presence in my vocabulary was missed. The taste of adventure had been denied to me. And I had never fallen from love's tender graces.

Now I see that love was not meant for me. I know that now, and I am a foolish idealist for ever believing that it could be mine. An empty eternity awaits me. Yet life goes on, the faeries still hum their mysterious songs, the fireflies still dance, the leaf has fallen and died. Love still finds _happily ever afters_ for some little girls.

The End.


End file.
